Love Will Save The Day
by Team Dragon Star
Summary: Oneshot. The Earth is on the verge of destruction but this time the Z-fighters can't save the day because there are no enemies to fight. An idea I got in response to my mother's belief in the apocalypse. A bleak and yet hopeful look at the idea that Earth could cause its own annihilation.


Love will Save the Day

**Disclaimer: Team Dragon Star does not own DBZ**

**This Oneshot is brought to you by NinjaWhisper**

This time there were no enemies to eliminate because the threat came from Earth itself. The Z-fighters huddled together under the protective barrier of Capsule Corporation, watching soldiers in camouflage, steel tanks, machine guns, atomic bombs, missiles, and military planes on the television. Every channel showed the devastation that newsmen called World War III. Vegeta stood behind the sofa and watched the scenes in mute horror, fists clenched tight at his sides.

For years he rampaged across the universe, pillaging and wiping out alien civilizations in the name of Frieza's Empire. Screams still echoed in his head from the past and blood haunted his dreams. The prince he used to be desired power, and he saw other people's loss as his gain. When the common citizen begged for mercy, even held up a child, all he did was laugh or smirk, and raise a hand to blast them aside. There was never a war, no, The Planet Trade Organization only brought massacre.

Vegeta wasn't familiar with wars. He'd heard about them. There were two armies (or more) that fought against each other, each holding different views, or one side having something that the other wasn't ready to share. This World War III started after Mr. Satan died from a heart attack of all things. The people of Earth just didn't know what to do, and who to turn to for leadership. Riots and uprising began. Opinions split. People stood up, declaring themselves the new figurehead for victory and salvation, some from genuine compassion and others in tyranny.

It was pathetic and declared how ignorant and fragile the human race was. At least when Vegeta murdered in mass numbers the people stood together, and from his view, wore ethnic pride. The Earthlings chose separation and blame, not against another people to strengthen their reign like the Saiyans, but instead battling it out amongst each other, weakening and killing one another off, and they didn't seem to comprehend that it wouldn't be long before there was no one left.

A scream reverberated from down the hall. Vegeta shut his eyes, not wanting to face what was going on in his bedroom. Bulma was in labor, and they feared taking the chance of carrying her to the hospital. Goku would have been able to use instant transmission, but he was currently flying around the globe in a last ditch effort to convince the Earthlings to put down their weapons and save their planet.

The living room occupants glanced up, some toward the sound of Bulma's yell, and others in his direction, all in sympathy. It was ironic, bringing a child into the world right before it ended. Luckily, Bulma was a genius and set up a force field around the domed building, one that was strong enough to even ward off bomb shocks. This should have settled Vegeta's unease because everything he cared about existed within Capsule Corp's walls, but instead his muscles were tense and he couldn't stay still.

The group of friends huddled together, some in chairs, others on the sofa, and still more on the carpet. Vegeta had never seen his son or Kakarot's youngest look so grim. Gohan held a trembling Videl, brushing her short hair to try and sooth her. Even Master Roshi was somber and serious, not a magazine in sight. Only Piccolo was calm, meditating in the corner.

Another moan came from down the hall. Vegeta tensed even more. He knew he should go to her, but he couldn't bring himself to look her in the eye and tell her it would be alright. Telling lies wasn't something Vegeta was good at. Snarky sarcasm, yes. Sexual innuendos, he could do that as well. Angry counterattacks, sure. None of these suited the situation.

"I should have annihilated them eleven years ago," Eighteen announced in a dry tone.

Beside her, Krillin's eyes enlarged with shock. He leaned back and said, "You don't mean that, hon."

The blonde android looked down at the seven year-old daughter in her arms. The child had reverted to younger behavior, clutching onto her mother like a baby. Android Eighteen's strong features seemed to collapse and she buried her face into her daughter's hair. Krillin wrapped his arms around his family as if he could guard them in such a manner.

The barrier on the roof had never been tested, but Bulma was 98% positive it would hold under any pressure. Everyone in the room would survive. Dende was not there. He wouldn't leave the lookout, saying that the guardian never left his post.

Vegeta wasn't about to put his faith in a set of seven magic balls anyway. He stormed over and hauled Trunks up with one arm. The boy gasped, but allowed himself to be dragged over to the side. Vegeta released him when they came to the edge of the hallway and out of ear's reach, except for the Namekian.

"Ready the space ship," Vegeta said.

Trunks blinked and opened and closed his mouth a few times. "What? Dad, are you sure?"

"Listen, boy, for once, just do as you're told."

"But Mom . . ."

"I'll deal with your mother. You go fetch the capsule and get it set up."

The lavender-haired boy fled to do the task. Vegeta shot Piccolo a glare and sent a warning message telepathically. _I'll give you an hour_ _before I talk_, the Namekian answered back in his head.

Vegeta neared the bedroom. His hand hovered over the doorknob, listening in to low grunts of pain. The moment he stepped in, there was no turning back. The turn of the knob would mean truth. His wife was bringing a baby girl into this horrible world.

Five months ago, after Bulma's sonogram, Vegeta made a silent promise to shield his little princess from harm. The mistakes he'd made in the past, especially his negligence with Trunks, would not be repeated, and he'd make every effort to raise his daughter right. That was before all hell broke loose and neighbor went against neighbor. He had every intention of keeping his daughter safe, but Earth was not the place to do it. Somewhere out there was a better place to settle down, and he was going to find it. All he had to do was convince his wife.

The room smelled of sweat. Bulma lay propped up by pillows, worn and drained. Chi-Chi ran rampant around the room, fetching water, switching out rags, and attending between Bulma's legs. She glared at the prince upon entry.

"So, the father decided to grace us with his presence. You men love to skip out on responsibility!"

Vegeta crossed his arms. "Don't take your marriage woes out on me, woman! Take them home where they belong." He realized his blunder and turned his face away in shame. There was no home to return to. He wasn't big on apology, so he remained silent, and so did she.

Bulma reached out for his hand and he reluctantly took it. For an Earth woman she was strong. Her fingers bit into his skin.

"Vegeta, you're here," she said.

"Don't state the obvious. Where would I go?"

Her eyes brimmed with unshed tears and she nodded. Another contraction swept through her and she cringed.

"Once she's born, we're leaving," Vegeta said.

"There's nowhere to go, like you said."

"Trunks is preparing the space ship," he said.

The look she gave him was full of incredulous disbelief. "What!"

He gritted his teeth. "The Earth is about to blow itself up. We have to evacuate and find somewhere better to raise the brat, and don't give me that crap about the dragon balls saving the world. Any race that would destroy their own planet doesn't deserve to be restored. What's to stop them from doing it again?"

Bulma grunted from another painful contraction. She writhed against the pillows. "This is my home, Vegeta, I'm not giving up on it! How can you...even...ask that of...me?" she panted.

"Look, Bulma, I'll drag you kicking and screaming off this mudball if that's what it takes. This is a hostile environment and I don't deem it suitable to raise our offspring."

Bulma screamed, probably from the labor, but also from her frustration. She released his hand and swatted at his face. He drew back. That brought Chi-Chi into the mix, and she brandished a gold handheld mirror, trying to hit him as if it were an iron skillet. Vegeta dodged it easily.

"Not my mirror! That was a keepsake from my mother!" Bulma shouted.

Chi-Chi snarled. "The baby and your wife don't need the stress. It was better when you were out of the room. This isn't time for arguments."

Vegeta grabbed the mirror away from the woman. He took Chi-Chi's hands and held her in place. She thrashed a little.

"Settle down, woman, you are creating stress just as much as I am."

That broke Chi-Chi and she leaned into him and bawled. Vegeta stiffened in disgust. The harpy was never his favorite person. His chest was not the rightful place for Kakarot's woman. Her tears soaked the blue shirt he wore and he curled his lips in distaste. Once she'd cried awhile he shoved her away. Chi-Chi rubbed her eyes and stepped back, embarrassed.

Bulma groaned and asked if she could push yet. Chi-Chi checked. "Almost."

Vegeta pinched the bridge of his nose. "Look, if you won't leave, I could always go back to my original plan. I can exterminate them and we can repopulate."

With a laugh, Bulma said, "Some Adam and Eve we are."

Growling, he said, "I'm serious, woman!"

"I know, but is that really the message you want to offer our daughter? You'd be as bad as the maniacs outside. You're better than that now Vegeta."

_Am I?_ he wondered. Seeing his mate thrash about on the unsterile bed, about ready to slip the newborn baby out, was about enough to make him hostile and violent, and take it all out on the idiot humans who deserved it. They weren't worth keeping around.

The contractions grew even closer and Bulma wasn't in any state to talk. Vegeta watched in tragic irritation. Chi-Chi gave the go-ahead and Bulma started to push. Bulma grabbed for Vegeta's hand again and he let her take it. She bore down, trying to breathe, while mustering her strength. Her face scrunched up in contortion as she made unpleasant noises. He hadn't been present during Trunks' birth and he was learning that labor was a very messy and unpleasant process.

This was it. The baby was coming and he had no home to offer it. The building was only a temporary safe-haven. Outside was toxic, chaotic, and held a society crumbling away. There was nothing to offer the baby girl. If the family escaped to space, where would they go? There was nothing guaranteed out there either. The planets he knew weren't anywhere he wanted to settle down on.

Vegeta let out a sound full of aggravation, not wanting to admit the truth. This planet called Earth had become his home, the place he had planned to live until he finally died. It didn't have anything worthy of a Saiyan; the technology was primitive, it was normally boring, and the people were as smart as rocks. But, his family was here.

He really didn't want to leave. It was an inconvenience and would make Trunks and Bulma unhappy. The muscles in his shoulders and back stiffened. All he wanted to do was protect the four of them. The rest be damned.

A scream erupted from Bulma, one of determination. Her clutch on him was wild and frantic. The baby slithered out and Vegeta smelled the pungent scent of blood and fluids. Chi-Chi cut the umbilical cord and disposed of the afterbirth. Bulma fell back, relieved and exhausted. Her face glistened but her features were smooth and relaxed. The baby cried, wailing, probably protesting against her new cold and unpleasant environment.

The infant lay on Bulma's chest and Bulma rubbed her hand over the girl's fuzz of blue hair. The baby was small and perfect. She breathed lightly against her mother's breast, an act so simple, innocent, and pure. She was completely different from the world and her father, who had stained hands, a bruised mind, and tarnished body. "Bra, welcome home," Bulma said.

The words were poorly chosen. They brought him to reality and away from Bra's false Eden. Hell reigned and the untamed fire drew near. Vegeta reached out and touched Bra's head too. She was soft and warm, and she nestled into his enlarged hand as if she already trusted him. Of course she did, she trusted everyone and everything, the entire population.

Sentimentalities never brought tears, but this one instigated a heavy feeling in his chest. Bra deserved more than what he could give her. Bulma, Trunks, and he were not enough for her. He needed to provide her with fresh air, a backyard to play, friends, a decent education . . .

Desperate and overcome with fatherly instinct, Vegeta turned toward the only source of hope he had. He honed in on Goku's ki signature, distinguishing him from the measly energies of the pitiful and polluted Earthlings. He didn't even have to communicate first, for Goku sensed his presence immediately.

_Vegeta! Hey there! I'm a little busy at the moment._

His mind came through loud and clear, but there was traceable fatigue. Vegeta could tell he was trying too hard, and apparently losing.

Vegeta answered, _Patch me through to King Kai. I have a message for the Earthlings._

_Oh, good idea! Do you think they'll listen this time? I've tried everything else._

_Shut up, and just do it!_

Did he think they would listen? No. All the Earthlings cared about were themselves, acting for their own benefit. They used only a pea size of their brain and wouldn't know truth if it bit them on their butt. The only one thing that the full population agreed on was to follow a false hero named Hercule Satan and he was long gone. No one would listen to his message. Still, he had to try. For her, his Bra.

There was a laugh and a snort. The clown, King Kai, was ever happy to help. _I haven't used my telepathy in a while. This'll be fun. Whenever you are ready._

Yeah, some fun, Vegeta thought. He took in a breath and prepared himself. He tried to calm himself and clear his mind. For her, for Bra.

When he spoke, Bulma raised up on the bed, her eyes large. Even Bra opened her bright blue eyes in interest. Chi-Chi stumbled backwards in obvious astonishment.

"People of the Earth," Vegeta said. "Listen up, your entire planet has been destroyed once and restored because of a being called Majin Buu. You offered power up to Mr. Satan to save it. Now that he is gone, you are destroying it yourself. Is this how you repay your savior? Some of you may be wondering who I am, but trust me, I was once an acquaintance of Mr. Satan. I am asking you to stop slaughtering yourself and band together and unite as a warrior race instead of weapons for your own destruction."

Vegeta silenced and waited.

_Very good, Vegeta, you have a way with words. Better said than I ever could_, Goku said telepathically.

A tear streamed down Bulma's cheek. She held Bra closer. "Oh, Vegeta, thank you," she whispered.

The silence crept in around their hearts. Chi-Chi shuddered near the end of the bed and looked like she was praying or thinking of her husband. There was nothing to do, but wait. Vegeta leaned down and kissed his wife and then their baby. Bulma's eyes beamed up, pleased at his outward affection.

_What was that?_

_Not another one of those tricksters._

_He's one of the enemies trying to fool us._

_The devil, playing with our minds._

_Focus on the grenades, soldiers, don't listen to this nonsense._

_Can't I have my last meal in peace?_

The voices came in, echoing in a jumble, a cacophony of mess. There was one thing they had in common; no one was ready to accept Vegeta's words.

_Uh, Vegeta, I don't think it is working, _Goku said. His inner voice was full of sadness.

Vegeta fell to his knees and put his head down on the edge of the mattress. Bulma reached out and ran her fingers through his flamed locks. He heard her cry softly next to him. He realized that she was giving up.

_Do you want to try again? _King Kai questioned.

One thing that attracted him to Bulma was how she was not a quitter, and was determined to get what she wanted. He couldn't stand that she was giving in to defeat now.

Vegeta raised his head. He glowered at his wife, not accepting her tears of grief.

"People of the Earth, you idiots! Don't you care about your own world! Are you just going to throw your lives away? Your children? Your children's children? Doesn't it mean anything to you? This time we cannot save you, you have to save yourself!" Vegeta stood up and let out a massive yell toward the ceiling. Chi-Chi covered her ears. "There is nothing for us to fight against to save this world! If you don't put down your weapons you will all be eliminated! Stop being children and grow up!"

Bra began to wail. Vegeta quieted and breathed heavily, his chest visibly moving up and down.

_Whoah, Vegeta, didn't you learn the first time? Being rude to people doesn't work._

_Try it yourself, Kakarot, I'm through._

_But, Vegeta . . ._

Vegeta sat down on the bed and tucked the white comforter around his girls. He felt as weary as they looked. Their only option was to take their chances out in space. It didn't please him, but they could always impose on his brother for a while. His planet was peaceful at least.

_Come on, how about another go at persuading them_, King Kai coaxed.

_I don't have any words left_, Vegeta thought back.

He stroked Bra's cheek, taking in her softness, attempting to be gentle. Her thick eyelashes fluttered. The blue of her eyes captured him in warmth and goodness. He continued to touch her, and her tiny little hand latched onto his index-finger. It was magical. Who knows how long it all lasted. Seconds, minutes, maybe an hour. . . All he knew was he was captivated by something he'd never felt before.

Whoops of joy came from the living room. A knock came to the door.

"Dad, you've got to get out here!" Trunks said.

Bulma stirred, but she was so tired and her eyes drooped. Vegeta took up Bra and carried her out into the hallway. Trunks took his father's hand and dragged him toward the others.

The living room was alive with merriment. Marron danced around in twirls. Roshi attempted to brush Eighteen's butt and she slapped him. Gohan dipped Videl and kissed her hard on the lips.

"Have people gone mad?" Vegeta demanded.

"No, Dad, look!" Trunks pointed to the television.

The flatscreen TV showed images of seized fires, retreating planes, settling dust, soldiers shaking hands, dropped weapons, and hugs in the streets. Vegeta stared in shock. He didn't understand. What could have caused them to stop?

Just then Goku popped in from instant transmission. His orange gi was dirty and torn and his hair was even more disheveled than usual. His face was blotchy with soot. Despite appearing as if he'd visited the middle of a tornado, he grinned widely.

"Vegeta, you are amazing!" Goku declared. "The people began halting their attacks before my eyes. I couldn't believe it."

What? Vegeta shook his head. Was it true that the people listened to him?

"Yeah, man, you were brilliant," Krillin said. The short man thumped the Saiyan Prince on the back.

"What did I say?" Vegeta said. He furrowed his brows in confusion.

Trunks smiled at his father. "You don't know? Dad, it wasn't what you _said_."

"No, it was what you _felt _and sent to everyone," Goku clarified. "It was so warm and hopeful. The only word I can use to describe it is love."

A frown came to Vegeta's lips in horror. They all saw him in such a vulnerable state. Now he could never hide beneath his hard alien exterior again.

The infant in Vegeta's arms squirmed. She made a fussy whimper. He soaked in her presence and realized that she was the real savior of the world.

"It wasn't me, it was Bra," Vegeta said, partly to cover up the fact that he'd let down his guard, but also in genuineness.

He had only been a mirror to Bra's brilliance.

* * *

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**Hope you enjoyed.**


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